The earth is quenched.
Fresh puddles cradle the road.
Happy birds slurp full drops
Of dew weighing down leaves.
Cows graze happily
On tall wet grass.
Ripened oranges—bright golden
Jewels on olive mantle.
On this bright blue morning,
I drive the open country road
Washed clean by rain, happy
That man is able
To wrest Time (one hour)
From the universe Itself.
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